New Tongue Smell
by Trisa Slyne
Summary: The Triwizard Tournament may be coming soon, but Fred and George are busy concocting new potions and they trick Ron into drinking their latest one. Now he's unable to speak English and his breath is foul. Can he get through the day without any complications? Set on the first day of Harry's Fourth Year of school at Hogwarts.
1. Prologue

******Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter, kk cool.**

**New Tongue Smell**

**Prologue**

Breakfast on the first day of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy was always exciting, but today it was especially exciting. Dumbledore had announced the Triwizard Tournament at the welcoming feast the night before. The normal group of owls flew in the Great Hall carrying care packages stuffed with things students had left at home. But many of them were immediately sent back home with excited letters from students. Some had sent letters the night before, but most had waited until this morning to write.

But two red-headed fifth years did not seem as impressed. They approached the Gryffindor table whispering to one another and sat apart from the others so they could continue their discussion. They looked identical because they were- they were twins. The Weasley twins to be more precise.

Fred heaped a little of everything onto his plate, fried tomatoes, bacon, sausage patties, toast and marmalade, and a bowl of porridge with cream and treacle spooned and mixed in. "I'm just saying…"

"I'm just saying, it's _your_ turn to try this one," George stated firmly. He was more selective in what he put on his plate: fried tomatoes, sausages, and toast with marmalade poured on top.

Fred took a bite of bacon and pointed the rest of the piece at George. "No way, that invisibility potion just wore off this morning," he said.

"Well I just got over that fever those chews gave me. It lasted way longer than it was supposed to," George said, taking a bite of toast.

Fred laughed. "You should've seen the looks people were giving you, mate. You were a right sight: feverish and talking to the air. Everyone thought you were a loon." He laughed again.

"Well Angelina thought you were off with some girl," George said, rolling his eyes and spearing a piece of fried tomato on his fork. He watched Fred closely, secretly hoping it might have been true. After all, he had a small crush on Angelina, too. "I'm surprised she was talking to you at all. Where did you go last night? I spent quite a long time talking to your empty bed before I realized you weren't there at all."

Fred smirked and leaned back, tossing the rest of his bacon piece in his mouth. "Ah well, invisibility has its perks," he said, once he had finished chewing. He waggled his eyebrows at his brother. "Angelina and I made up- and out- last night… all night long."

George's eyebrows shot up and he put his forkful of tomato down, feigning shock but truthfully having lost his appetite a bit. "What? No. No way. You snuck into the girl's room? _Without me?_ How? That anti-boy spell caught you this morning!"

"You fly up!" Fred said, too proud of his own ingenuity to notice George's discomfort. He smiled a smile that reached from ear to ear. "Angelina made sure the coast was clear then helped me fly up on her broom after the other girls were asleep." He cackled. "Luckily the invisibility spell didn't wear off until morning so when I left I just pretended I had been coming up to visit then." Fred leaned back with a smug smile on his face. "We have a date tonight. Which is why I can't be speaking gibberish all day."

"All day, it's only supposed to last an hour," George argued, his stomach tightening more. "Then again so were the fever chews." He looked at his food and realized he was done. He pushed the plate away and turned to his brother again. He paused to think. "But hey, it might be sexy. The girls love a man with an accent." Maybe Fred would even find someone else.

"Would be sexier if I could turn it on and off at will," Fred said. "We should look into that."

"Yes, yes," said George, distractedly. It was time to change the subject. "But first we need to make sure it works first and will incorporate all the languages we want. Then we can select different languages for different pills."

Fred leaned back and munched on his food thoughtfully. "You know what, George? I think it's time we got ourselves pets." He stared pointedly over George's shoulder.

George raised his eyebrows. They had never bothered with pets. Too much responsibility. He turned to follow his brother's line of sight. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were sitting further down the table eating. "Guinea pigs?" he asked.

"Precisely," Fred said.


	2. Humiliation

**Chapter 1: Humiliation**

Harry and Hermoine sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, calmly eating their breakfast while between them Ron sat, furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment.

"Honestly, Ron, how do you manage to be behind before classes have even started?" Hermione asked. "You had all summer to do this."

"I was busy _living_, Hermione, _living_," Ron groaned. "I know _you'd_ like nothing more than to read and do homework all summer, but us _normal_ people enjoy doing other things."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I have hobbies," she insisted. Ron snorted. Hermione looked to Harry for support. His eyes widened and he struggled for an appropriate response.

"Like what?" Harry asked, lamely.

Hermione pushed her lips together in a thin line. "Knitting," she said.

"Knitting?" Ron burst into laughter. "You mean like what little old ladies and women like my mum do?"

Hermione's cheeks colored and she stood up suddenly.

"I think it's… interesting?" Harry tried, lamely.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Ron burst out with "Knitting!" and then dissolved into another round of laughing. She closed her mouth firmly, gathered her things, and left.

"I think you hurt her feelings," Harry informed Ron.

"She'll get over it," Ron said, going back to his homework.

"Yeah, well, we're on our own with our homework until she does. Of course, you could apologize and then she'd help us again."

"Apologize for what?" Ron asked, irritably, "It's not my fault she has a stupid hobby. You and I have perfectly respectable hobbies- Quidditch."

Harry could not argue with that. But Hermione could hold a grudge for a while and Ron could be stubborn. He hoped they would at least still talk to each other. He sighed and looked around the Great Hall. A large package caught his eye.

"I wonder who that package is for," Harry said absentmindedly. He was staring at what appeared to be a large box flying by itself. It veered haphazardly across the room, coming closer and closer… to him. It suddenly landed with a THUMP right in front of him, clattering the dishes all around and splattering some nearby students with food.

"Ahh!" screamed Ron as porridge flew all over his page. A feathery little ball had landed right in Harry's porridge bowl, splattering what was left of his porridge all over his robes and Ron's paper. Ron lifted his parchment up and made a face as the porridge slid off the paper. Harry examined his bowl and found a tiny pygmy owl laying in it, not moving except for the heaving of its chest. He picked the poor thing up and set it down on a napkin.

Harry sighed and pulled out his wand to clean himself up, thankful he was finally back at school and could do so again so easily. He cleaned the owl off, as well, and stroked it on the head. He vaguely wondered how to tell the gender of an owl. He had been informed that Hedgwig was a girl, so he had never needed to know how to check before. But it wasn't important.

"Blimey," Ron said. "Who sent you such a large package?"

"I dunno," Harry said, looking at the name on the box. "It's not for me," he said, looking around. Harry looked at the poor fluffball and could not imagine how it had managed to carry such a large, heavy box by itself. He examined the box more closely and found a loop of string lying against the side of it. Apparently someone had attached string to holes on each side of the top of the box in order to give the poor owl something to hold onto since it was too large to carry in the talons like a normal package.

"Is it for me?" Ron asked, already reaching out for it.

"I-it's mine," squeaked a voice. Ron and Harry looked at one another then looked around. They could not see anyone around them. Finally Harry stood up and looked over the package. A first year was sitting on the other side of the table. Harry was so used to ignoring everyone around him that he had not even noticed her there. She had very dark skin and short black hair. Harry noted she, like most other first-years seemed extremely small to him. He swore he had never been quite that tiny.

"Well you won the jackpot, didn't you?" Ron said. "Go on, open it! Let's see what your Mum and Dad sent you."

The girl's eyes suddenly darted to Harry's forehead and she opened her mouth to speak.

"Yes, yes, that's Harry Potter," Ron butted in before she could say anything. "I'm Ron Weasley. What, haven't heard of me? Strange. I'm loads more famous than he is." He tapped her package. "C'mon c'mon open it. I'm dying to see what's inside."

The girl gave one awed look at Harry before looking at Ron and blushing. Ron noticed this and suddenly sat up straighter. Harry rolled his eyes. The girl stood up and stared uncertainly at the box.

Ron stood up as well, his homework quickly forgotten. He stared at the package, his eyebrows furrowing together. "What's all this on here?" he asked.

Harry's eyes widened as he noticed the thick layer of tape covering the entire top of the box. Clearly her parents had wanted to make sure the package was secure. "It's called tape," he told Ron. "It's a muggle invention to keep packages closed." He looked at the girl. "Are your parents muggles?"

"My mum is," she answered, shyly. "My father's a wizard but he travels a lot, so mum knows how to use owls…" she gestured helplessly at the package. "But I need scissors to open it…"

"How 'bout a knife?" Ron offered, holding a dull butterknife out to her.

She blushed and took the knife. "It might work," she said uncertainly. She grasped the butterknife in her hand and poked the box with it. Ron's hand twitched as if he wanted to take the knife from her and stab the box. A few minutes passed before Ron turned to Harry.

"Do you think alohomora would work?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. Ron discreetly pulled out his wand and tapped the box on the side, reciting the incantation under his breath. Ron smiled as the lid burst open, but his smile froze as the contents of the package proceeded to burst forth from the box in a steady stream of pastel colors. They all stood horrified as bits of clothes started falling on people around them. To everyone's horror or amusement it soon became apparent what most of the clothes in the box were: knickers and bras.

The entire Great Hall hushed and then bursts of laughter or disgust began filtering in.

"Granny panties? Who still wears these?" one female student said snarkily.

"I guess I don't need to do any panty-raids now," a male voice hooted.

McGonagall's voice soon boomed over theirs, "Anyone who tries to keep those clothes which are not theirs will receive detention. And anyone who makes anymore remarks will lose points for their house." Everyone turned to see McGonagall standing up, her wand pointed at her throat to enhance the sound. "Please bring me the clothes in question and continue on with your lunch."

A pair of knickers landed on Ron's face. He spluttered and knocked them off, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. He turned to apologize to the girl but right as he opened his mouth she suddenly stood up and fled the Great Hall.

McGonagall brought over an armful of clothes and deposited them into the box. "Just what is going on here?" she demanded to know.

Ron gaped. His eyes darted from his unfinished homework to McGonagall. Harry sighed and said, "It was my fault professor." Ron turned his eyes on Harry but Harry looked from Ron to Ron's homework pointedly. "I was trying to help her open her package and well, used magic. It kind of backfired…"

"I should say so," McGonagall said. "10 points from Gryffindor. Potter, you know better than to use magic outside of classes. Now come along, we are going to return Ms. Wayne's possessions and you are going to apologize to her. And I'll be seeing you in detention tonight."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said solemnly.

Ron sat down, his mind buzzing. He appreciated Harry taking the fall for him. He glanced at his homework, wondering how he would be able to focus now.

"Smooth," one of his brother's said as he took a seat on Ron's right where Harry had been sitting.

"Yeah, we always said you were the smoothest with the ladies!" chirruped Fred, taking Hermione's seat to Ron's left.

"What do you want?" Ron said, glancing at the two of them. "I'm a little busy, can't you see?" he pointed at his homework?

"What we saw," George began, "Was you mucking things up and letting Harry take the fall."

Ron pointedly picked up his quill and resuming his homework.

"Pretty smarmy of you, if you ask me," Fred said, grabbing an unused goblet and examining its contents. He used an unused fork to spear a sausage and happily munched on it.

"It was an accident!" Ron said, harassed. He looked up to grab his drink, not wanting to knock it over on his parchment, and noticed George quickly retracting his hand from near it.

"Hey, did you do something to my drink?" he demanded to know, grabbing the cup and looking into it. He glanced at George.

George shrugged but smiled. "You're paranoid, mate."

"It's not paranoia when it's you two, it's being smart. Especially lately…" Ron retorted. Fred stuffed a piece of omelet in his mouth and reached for his drink. Ron snatched his goblet before he could get to it and downed it.

"What'd you do that for?" Fred said, put out. Ron ignored him and went back to work. George rolled his eyes.

"Hey that looks good, whatchu eating?" George asked.

Ron lifted his arms up in the air in an annoyed gesture. "Any bloke can see it's un omelette du fromage," he said irritably. He lowered his arms and went back to writing, but he hesitated, his eyebrows furrowing. "Omelette du fromage?" he repeated. "Omelette du fromage!" he exclaimed.

"Well, it works," Fred said, putting down his silverware and patting his full stomach.

"But for how long?" George pondered out loud. Ron's eyes widened. Could his morning get any worse?


	3. Repercussions

**Chapter 2: Repercussions **

Fred flicked up the tenth of his fingers and leaned back away from his brother, secretly very glad he had not taken this potion himself. Any sexiness from speaking the foreign languages would have been cancelled out by the rancid odor it caused. There would have been no more snogging for him tonight. He made a note to try to find something to counteract that side effect if possible. After another exclamation George lifted up one of his fingers. A few more angry exclamations and five fingers later and Ron finally ran out of steam. He sat and glowered at his brothers.

Fred whistled. "That many different languages, eh? How many are there in the world anyway?" George shrugged. Fred laughed and rubbed his hands together. "Well, shall we find Lee now and get that aging potion going?" he asked George.

"We shall!" George said. George stood up and looked at Ron. "Do let us know how long it lasts. Oh and good luck with the breath thing."

"Have fun in class!" they both said in unison, chuckling as they walked off.

Ron smacked his forehead with his hand. Class! How was he going to get through his classes like this? Surely it would not last all day, right? Right? No telling with his brothers. Ron sighed aggressively and glared down at his summer homework. He had been so close to finishing it, too. No way he would be able to concentrate on it now. All because of his rotten brothers. He hastily rolled up the parchment and stored it in his bag and pulled out another parchment, this one with his class list on it. Today was Monday so he had Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination.

Ron groaned. None of them were particularly enjoyable classes but Care of Magical Creatures would be the worst since it was still with Slytherin. Well, at least he would not really be expected to talk in any of those classes. He might be able to get away with this. Maybe. Only one way to find out. He got up and headed off to Herbology.

As he stepped into the greenhouse, he spotted Hermione and brightened up. Hermione would help him! But as he made eye contact with her, grinning madly with hope, she narrowed her eyes at him and turned away. Ron's smile faded into a scowl. Oh, right, he had forgotten she was mad at him for some stupid reason. Well fine then. At least she would not find out about his predicament since she would not be speaking to him. Ron huffed and slammed his books down at an empty spot away from Hermoine, glaring her way as if it were her fault he could no longer speak English at the moment.

Ron jumped as Harry irritably plopped down next to him. Harry looked at Ron expectantly and Ron raised an eyebrow back at him. Harry stared at him a bit longer then rolled his eyes. "I got detention, thanks for asking," he grumbled.

"Oh," Ron mouthed. Suddenly he had a grand idea! He could not speak, but he could mouth to Harry what he wanted to say. Or write, but that would take longer. So he mouthed "Sorry" at Harry. Harry stared at him. Ron tried again but Harry looked even more puzzled. Ron sighed and gave up. That clearly was not going to work.

"No puedo hablar en inglés," Ron whispered to Harry, figuring he might as well let him know what was happening. Maybe Harry could persuade Hermione to help him. Harry wrinkled his nose and leaned away.

"Your breath is rank," Harry said. He raised his eyebrows up. "I didn't know you could speak another language."

Ron sighed aggressively, causing Harry to scoot away from him a bit. He could not help but think that Hermione would have understood that something was wrong immediately. He hastily pulled out some parchment and scribbled to Harry: _Fred and George tricked me into drinking some potion! I can't speak English until it wears off! And my breath smells terrible._

"Oh," Harry said. "How long does it last?"

Ron shrugged.

Harry paused and thought a moment. "Ok, well we have all our classes together so I can just speak for you. If anyone calls on you I'll tell them you've lost your voice. Just uh, don't try to talk anymore…" Ron grinned and nodded in agreement. This could totally work.

* * *

Ron covered a yawn as he walked out of Divination class with Harry. No one had called on him that day so Harry had not needed to lie for him. He had done it! He had gotten through the day. Now all he had to get through was dinner and then he could play Wizards Chess or, and this was an appalling thought, do his homework. He frowned at the very thought.

Hermione was already sitting at the dinner table when they got there. He figured she would ignore him as she had at lunch. Ironically, he did wish he could apologize, but he did not want to disgust her with his breath. He was not entirely sure why he cared so much but he did.

Whatever. He sat across from her and endured her silence. Harry did not seem to have anything to say either. It was a quiet dinner for their group. Harry left for his detention right after. Hermione left without a word, probably heading to the library or something. She likely would avoid the Common Room for a while at least.

Ron was not sure how he should feel. He had gotten his best friend detention, irked his other best friend to the point where she did not want to talk to him, and gotten tricked into taking a potion by his brothers. All in all it was a rotten start to what should have been a very exciting year of school.

He was thinking of all this as he walked out of the Great Hall. So wrapped up in his own thoughts was he that he accidentally stepped on the tail of Mrs. Norris. He jumped as she yowled. So sour was his mood that instead of apologizing to the cat as he should, he instead aimed a kick at her and said obscenities at her. What came out instead was something garbled and much harsher sounding than the other languages he had been speaking all day. He actually was amused by it for a moment for it was a perfect language to cuss in.

"Don't you hurt Mrs. Norris, you rotten child!" a voice rasped, ruining his amusement. Filch hobbled over to him and glared at him. Great, now he had been caught kicking at Filch's cat. He was screwed.

"Uhhh," Ron said, grateful that at least was something universal across all languages. He tried to apologize but what came out was "Es tut mir leid."

"Kicking Mrs. Norris and cussing me out in another language are you? Oh-ho don't think I'm fooled. I know a cuss word when I hear it, no matter the language!" Filch was getting more animated as he talked. This student had clearly wronged him and would be punished. Punishing a student was exciting for him and he made no attempt to hide it.

Ron's eyes widened at the vehemence of Filch's speech. He felt a presence behind him and felt a dim hope that he was about to be saved, until he heard a slick, oily voice. Ron felt a weight in the pit of his stomach as he recognized that voice. He turned around to face an equally slick, oily figure sneering down at him.

"What is going on here?" Professor Snape asked, a smirk curling around his face. His eyes darted around as if looking for Ron's friends. Ron felt even worse now as he remembered once again it was all his fault that his friends were not with him.

Filch hastily went to Professor Snape's side and began before Ron could even try to explain himself. "He's cussing at me in other languages, he is!"

"Is he now? Strange, I was positive Mr. Weasley could barely speak one language."

"See for yourself," Filch said, positively gleaming with anticipation.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow and turned his attention to Ron.

"Umm," Ron said noncommittally, trying to think of a way out of trouble. He wondered if he could get out of talking but seriously doubted it.

"Even worse," Filch interrupted. "He kicked my cat." He said this in a grave voice, as if this offense in and of itself were worth all the thumbscrewing he had ever threatened upon students in the history of his working there. Professor Snape flicked a disgusted look down at Mrs. Norris, who hissed up at him.

"Mhux I ma qabiżx!" Ron said insistently.

Professor Snape loomed over Ron triumphantly. "I see you've been meddling with potions outside of class- again," he said, hissing that last word.


	4. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Fred and George watched the scene unfold with Professor Snape, Filch, and Ron from around the corner. They had originally been waiting there to pounce on Ron and figure out how long the potion had lasted and whether that bad breath side effect had ever worn off. Well, they now knew the former, but no one was close enough to Ron for them to discern an answer to the latter.

George briefly debated whether it was not smarmy of them to let Ron get in trouble because of their potion. He nudged Fred and sent him a questioning look. Should they intercede? Fred all but snorted. No. Ron let Harry take a fall for him earlier, he could take a fall for them now. It was not like they intentionally meant for him to get into trouble because of it. Stupid git should not have kicked at Filch's cat. It was not like he would get expelled after all.

Professor Snape drew his wand from his cloak with dramatic flourish and pointed it at Ron. "Accio potion," he said. Nothing happened.

Professor Snape's face soured further than Fred knew possible. "I should take you to the headmaster- but as you do not have the potion on you I doubt he will believe it was you who concocted it." Professor Snape paused a moment and sent Ron a disbelieving glare as if he could not believe Ron had the ability to do such a thing either.

"Nonetheless, I think detention is in order," Professor Snape said, looking at Ron challengingly. Ron opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut. Filch made a noise and Professor Snape looked at him with disgust. "And 10 points from Gryffindor for kicking the cat."

Filch immediately started in with protest but Snape sent him a piercing glare which quieted him down to angry mutters about the injustice of it all.

A meow from right below them had Fred and George disappearing swiftly from the scene before Filch or Professor Snape could catch them eavesdropping.

Fred and George returned to the Common Room discussing the results of their potion. They had not been able to find any component that would remove the repugnant stench from the breath and had decided it would be a quirky gag product that people could inflict upon their friends, much like they had done to Ron. They still were not sure how long it lasted, but they were pretty sure it would wear off by that night. Maybe. Well they would check with Ron later.

A variety of students were sitting in the chairs and sofas by the fire. Fred and George waved Lee over to join them in at a sofa they commandeered from some first years. They leaned close to whisper together, Lee's dreadlocks brushing against one of them every now and again. They filled him in on their new potion and the results. Then came the topic of naming it.

"Something to do with languages. Or tongues," George began.

"What is it dad always says he wish he could smell? Something about cars being new…"

They sat and pondered it a moment. Lee had no idea what they were talking about so he amused himself by eyeing one of the attractive girls he had been talking to before they walked in. She looked up and made eye contact with him and he gave her a slow smile and a head nod. She rolled her eyes but she smiled. Score.

George opened his mouth once but bit back what he was thinking. He hesitated a moment before finally speaking. "New Car Smell? Something like that?"

"Sounds right. So what should ours be? New Tongue Smell?" Fred laughed. But then he paused, and looked thoughtful. "Yeah," he said, getting more and more excited. "I like it."

"It's quirky," Lee added, thinking it over as well.

"And accurate," George said.

They eyed one another and thought over it some more before nodding. "It's perfect," Fred and George said together at the same time. Lee said it as well, but he was off by a split second so it sounded like "It's it's perfect perfect." Lee pursed his lips. So close!

Fred added a new item to their list he kept in his pocket: Weasley's New Tongue Smell: Speak any and all languages! Warning: Causes bad breath.

As he did so, the portrait hole opened and another student came in. George's eyes automatically flicked over to look when it opened, but he glanced back as he realized he recognized the student. It was the girl from this morning who had earned the nickname-

"Hey look it's Knickers!" someone shouted. The girl ducked her head down and tried to go to her room but she was waylaid by some older boys. One had sandy-blonde hair and the other with black hair. By their swagger you would have thought they were seventh years, but George recognized them as tall third years. One pulled out a pair of old lady knickers and laughed at her.

"Hey hey I got something of yours!" he said. He pushed them into her face and she winced away and mumbled something.

"Not yours? The only way I'll believe that is if you show me the ones you're wearing right now," the black haired one said.

The girl sent a glare up at them and shoved past them. The blonde one grabbed her arm and would not let go.

George, Fred, and Lee were up and over there in a moment.

"Excuse me gents," George said, adjusting an imaginary monocle. "But that's not how we behave around here in Gryffindor, is it Fred?"

"No indeed. It is most uncivilized," Fred said in a priggish voice he based off his older brother Percy.

Lee was not as good at fancy accents, so he stood behind the twins and gave the pair a mean look and flexed his arms.

The girl backed away and looked from the boys to the door, as if she expected Professors McGonagall and Dumblefore to burst in at any moment and suspend everyone involved. George noticed and fought a smile. The boys were already backing down, giving the usual excuses of "just a bit of fun" and whatnot.

George sidled over to the girl and handed her a chew- another experiment of theirs that he thought might be helpful to her in this moment.

"Here, chew this. It'll make the embarrassment go away," he said.

She gave the candy a skeptical look but hesitated only a moment before she popped it into her mouth and chewed it with an unexpected fierceness. A look of steely determination came into her eyes when she finished that made George's eyebrows shoot up. She locked onto the two boys who had been bullying her and charged right up to them, getting right up in their faces.

"The names Keyana. Not Knickers. Not anything else." The boys' eyes popped out of their heads the slightest bit as she continued her onslaught. "And I know those have got to be yours because there is no girl here who would voluntarily let you anywhere near hers, on or off." Everyone in the Common Room was paying attention now. A few girls hooted their agreement.

"And another thing," Keyana continued, "My knickers are none of your concern. I am not some sexual object put in this school for your entertainment. I will wear whatever I like and whatever is comfortable, whether it's sexy to you or not." Another chorus of cheers.

Keyana gave the pair one last glare before giving them a large, smile. No, not a smile, George corrected himself, more like a showing of teeth. "If you ever bother me again…. I. Will. End. You." Then she giggled the most girlish, adorable giggle that both amused and terrified. And walked to her room.

At some point during Keyana's outrage George had returned to Fred's side. Now that it was all over Fred leaned over and whispered, "Embarrassment Eradicus?" George nodded. "I think we may want to test that one again for potency… and duration…" George nodded again. "Though I kind of wish we had given it to her sooner. Might be interesting to see her go on like that all day."

It might be indeed.


End file.
